


Trust

by shipsgalore



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:21:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipsgalore/pseuds/shipsgalore
Summary: "I can't give you everything you want."
"You're all I want, whatever you let me have I will take. You're not going to scare me off."
"Are you a betting man?"
"If i was I'd risk everything for this."





	1. Trust

It's been months of cautious flirting, weeks of feather light touches, hours of confusion, minutes of regret, and only seconds of action. The seconds of action is what leads him to standing between Jeremy's spread thighs while he sits on a counter at a party. It's what leads to the hitching breaths he takes when Jeremy doesn't move first, because has he read this wrong? Did he just mess up a relationship he needs so strongly? 

But then Jeremy let's his hand brush lightly against Jean's thigh, touches that have made the nerve endings on him go awry and his brain short circuit, and he taps his fingers in quick recession. Two for yes. A pause. One for no. He's leaving the decision up to him, letting Jean decide whether or not he wants to take that plunge. And Jean answers him by leaning in and capturing Jeremy's lips with his own.

They've almost been in this situation twice before. The first time was when Jean was only three months into being a USC Trojan. The first time was Jean caging Jeremy in against the plexiglass wall. The first time was his stuttering breath and aching hands. The first time was only interrupted by Jean pulling himself away and stalking off, and throwing his helmet against the lockers. And he sits. 

He remembers what it was like to have someone that close to him, willingly at least. And he makes himself promise that it won't happen again, because Jeremy doesn't need some broken toy to put back together.

The second time is when they traveled to a different state for an away game with Jeremy and Jean sitting in the very back of the bus while whispering back and forth. meaningless things, small facts about Jean, small facts about Jeremy, the brush of hands, knees knocking together, and Jean sinking lower into the seat. Jeremy laughs at something he says and it brings his breath to a stuttering stop, because he just did that. 

And then he remembers that he can't want this and his breathing goes back to normal and his body numbs itself to his touch.

But now, at this party, Jean feels like those times wouldn't have been enough because he has Jeremy caged on the counter and they had been whispering back and forth, making small observations about the people around them and laughing together when they saw Bryan trip over his feet. He has both of those situations in one. His heart feels full.

He pulls away to catch his breath and Jeremy follows his movement making Jean smile softly. He presses his thumb to the side of Jeremy's mouth to feel the upturn of his lips, to press the pad of his thumb to the sun and not get burned. 

"Did you decide today was a good day to end our pining?" And Jean laughs breathlessly into the air between them because of course he'd crack a joke.

"It felt different today," he says easily and the thing is -- the thing is that Jeremy knows what he means, because jeremy always knows what he means. That's what made him so frustrated his first month and half, was how understanding Jeremy was and it pissed him off. So he pushed, he dug, he bruised, until finally jeremy snapped on month three. That's what lead to the circumstances of Jean shoving Jeremy against the plexiglass at their own little practice at night. 

Jeremy tracks his fingers up to Jean’s face and presses both of his thumbs under his cheekbones and taps a steady beat under them until what he wants to say finally comes to mind. "I didn't think you'd ever get used to my casual touches, but I think you caught onto what I was doing pretty quickly. You not stopping it was either stubbornness to push yourself or because you didn't actually mind." 

Jean rests his forehead against his after that and Jeremy's smile gets impossibly wider. Jean loves it. Jean loves him. But he shouldn't. 

He removes his hand from Jeremy's cheek and rests it next to his thigh instead. "I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

"That's never stopped me before," Jeremy responds and rests his hand atop of Jean’s and taps the same quick succession of beats he had at the start. Two taps for yes. A pause. One tap for no. 

"I can't give you everything you want."

"You're all I want, whatever you let me have I will take. You're not going to scare me off."

"Are you a betting man?"

"If i was I'd risk everything for this."

Jean taps back twice for yes. And he doesn't regret it because there's nothing to regret. He trusts him, which he's proven is a good thing. Jeremy hasn't let him down yet.


	2. Instance One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was a requested add on by someone on tumblr
> 
> the italicized text (after run,run,run) are from past conversations Jean has said; the bolded and italicized are things Jeremy had said before

He’d woken from another nightmare, the feel of the knife to his skin too real and the breath on his neck too heavy. He’d laid in his bed until his breathing settled back to a normal tempo and his heart was no longer running a 5k, then pulled himself up into a sitting position and ran his shaky hands through his hair. He felt Jeremy’s gaze trace his profile for any signs of other discomfort, and nearly choked on the feeling in his heart.

“It’s just a nightmare. Go back to sleep,” he says, climbing out of bed and grabbing his cellphone and the keys to Jeremy’s old jeep. “I’m going to the court.” And he left, slowly closing the door behind him so as not to alert the other members that he was awake. 

He had made it all the way to the jeep and had the keys in the ignition when the passenger side door had opened and Jeremy had climbed in. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

And that was how they ended up with neither of them in practice gear, but both of them swinging shot after shot at the empty goal. The resounding thud of each ball hitting the Plexiglas had a different sound depending on who had thrown the ball -- Jeremy’s were light, whispering of contentment and giving away to the blood rushing excitement he gets in a game, and Jean’s were hard, yelling of fear and of anger and of the want to _run, run, run._

“What was it this time?” Jeremy asks after they’ve gone through three full buckets of balls and have wasted an hour and a half doing so. Jean is picking up the balls strewn around them, ignoring the twinge of pain that filters in from tightening his fist too tightly on the racquet. He stops and stares at his captain, stomach rolling in knots. _Sometimes you’re in them, sometimes you’re not._

“It’s the same as it’s been for the past week and a half,” he lies, not sure how he’s supposed to tell this -- this overgrown puppy that Jean was carving into him like Riko had carved into Jean. He picks up the last of the balls and starts making shots on goal again from where he stands by the court wall, ignoring the look Jeremy gives his hands. _Stop coddling me, I’m fine._

They spend the next half hour shooting, but that comes to an abrupt end when Jean’s racquet clatters to the ground. He stares at the stick, bored already with the game Jeremy is trying to play. _**Anything to get you out of your head, remember? That’s what I promised**_. The nerve endings shock and simmer in his hand, reminding him that he shouldn’t be able to play with that hand. 

“You’re not allowed to push me away.” The words seem to wrap their way around Jean’s heart, reminding him why he likes this man, why he’s a Trojan, why three months in, Jeremy can loop his arm through Jean’s and it is not be as big a deal as when somebody else on the team does, or tries. He’s familiar with Jeremy. 

“If I wanted to push you away, you’d know.” He picks back up his racquet with the other hand. Jokes on him. Jean’s ambidextrous. But Jeremy knocks it back out of hand, sending a fuzzy signal up his arm. “Fuck you, Knox,” he hisses, and shoves him back. 

Which, in retrospect, is a bad idea. The Plexiglas is cool to the touch under Jean’s palms, cooling down the heat that’s built from holding the racquet so long. Jeremy is caged in by Jean’s arms, both breathing heavy. Jeremy’s eyes flicker briefly down to Jean’s, and Jean’s flicker briefly down to Jeremy’s. His hands ache from the stress he’s put on them. Jean focuses on that instead of how close his body is to Jeremy’s, how easy it would be to kiss him.

He tears himself away and stalks off. The locker’s take the brunt of his anger when he swings the helmet he should have been wearing at them. The proximity of his and Jeremy’s bodies is the first time in months that he remembers being that close to someone willingly, willingly putting himself into their space and trusting them not to take advantage of the situation.

Jean takes a deep breath in and runs his hands through his sweaty hair, knocking a fist against the bench when he brings them back down. Too close, too soon, and not enough people. Something could’ve happened and Jean doesn’t know if he could bring himself back from that, but knows that Jeremy doesn’t need a broken toy, so decides that it won’t happen again.

When they get back to the dorm and settle back into bed, Jean’s heart is racing uncomfortably fast. He stretches his hands to stop the ache. “Jer, will you help me wrap my hands tomorrow?” He whispers into the empty air. 

“Sure, Moreau.” Jean breathes an unsteady sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yell with me on [tumblr](http://jearmoreau.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> yell with me on [tumblr](http://jearmoreau.tumblr.com/)


End file.
